


This Race We Run

by Keithan



Series: Spire [6]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon, Endless Waltz, Friendship, Gap Filler, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-11
Updated: 2010-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keithan/pseuds/Keithan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraught with the threat of Heero's safety, Quatre, with Duo and Trowa, finds himself running the last lap of a race that has been going on for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Race We Run

**Author's Note:**

> **a/n: **This one-shot was born from another fic that I'm planning on finishing, but this came out first, so here it is. :D

_"I… I…" _

Quatre frowned at the sudden ache in his chest. _What…? _

_"I will never kill again. I don't have to kill anymore." _

He froze, hands tightening around the controls of Sandrock. Cold sweat trickled down his face as his eyes became distant, seeing nothing for a moment. The sounds filtering through the speakers of his cockpit became hollow and empty, echoing in his ears like the far-away howling of the wind.

"No," he whispered. _"No." _

Prying his fingers from the control, he raised a hand to his chest. _I can't feel… _Something inside him had suddenly vanished, as though a light within him was abruptly switched off. He closed his eyes, trying to grasp that something within him, trying to get hold of some part of him that had suddenly seemed to just disappear, leaving him distinctively empty and hollow. For a moment, he was confused, not knowing what was happening, not knowing how to explain why he suddenly felt at a loss. He was just fighting alongside his friends, his co-pilots, a while ago, having his mind entirely focused on the dangerous task at hand. Now, the battle was at a standstill. He couldn't explain how…

_Standstill… _he thought. Yes, most of their enemies withdrew when the new threat of Wing Zero loomed just above the shielded presidential residence. He started at the thought. _Wing Zero! _

"Heero!" with the startling realization, Quatre tensed in his seat, and suddenly, all the fear and concern he had for their teammate, who was just blown up as Wing Zero exploded right before their very eyes not more than an hour ago, came crashing down like a harsh torrent of waves.

_"No," _he said again. "This can't be possible."

He knew it was not the time to dwell on the true nature of his empathic abilities and the true depth of the connection he'd always felt with the pilot of Wing. Even if he didn't, he was too wound up with fear and worry to even think. _I can't feel it!_

He was nearly filled with true panic when he noticed his name being called, and with that, he was once again pulled back to the present, back to his cockpit and the sounds of the dying battle once again reached his ears in full sound.

"Quatre!" He recognized Duo's voice, and by the sound of it, it seemed as though the other pilot had been trying to reach him for some time now. Almost unconsciously, he slammed a fist to a control at his side, and Duo's image appeared, as well as Trowa's.

"Took you long enough!" Duo said, but soon noticed that Quatre wasn't at all looking at them. The blonde pilot was hunched over in his cockpit, his breathing labored.

"Something's wrong," Trowa said softly. His voice was soft but concerned.

Duo frowned, wary. "What is it?"

"Heero…" Quatre started, but his words trailed off.

If he had been looking, he would have noticed how Duo's expression suddenly sobered up and how Trowa's forehead creased, both expressions tinged with worry.

Quatre knew and just accepted the fact that he was connected to Heero in a way that he wasn't connected to anyone else. Their connection was just there, a constant presence in him that he didn't give much notice to, nor did he know exactly that it existed the way it did. He hadn't given it much thought, but was left baffled with it when he had analyzed the incident with Heero's self-destruction in Siberia . He soon suspected it when he met the other pilot after their mobile suit confrontation in space, suspected it even after that, during their stay in Sanq. He was only able to confirm it and finally acknowledge such connection just after Heero's successful attempt to save the Earth, but once again, he didn't give it much thought; it was just simply… _there _.

_The heart of outer space… _

He closed his eyes, for the first time trying to consciously reach out to that connection, trying to grasp that familiar feeling. But there was none, as though it just vanished, leaving him feeling incomplete as he missed the familiar feel and presence of such inexplicable bond. It took him a moment before his eyes widened in a realization he never did want to realize. _Could it be…! _

"I… I can't feel Heero," he said, and even as he said it, his mind was coming up with reasons as to why. Not feeling the other pilot couldn't possibly mean…

"No, he can't be…" he said almost unconsciously. His face hardened with grim lines of determination, forehead furrowing into a frown, and with a renewed sense of utter urgency, he snatched his goggles from his head as he turned to look at both Duo and Trowa on his screen, both of which was showing different shades of surprise and confusion at his short display of his inner conflict.

All three looked at each other for a moment, through the screens and cameras in their suits, and it was as if their need for urgency seeped through all of them now as they remembered their fallen comrade. Duo's face gave in to the concern and fear for their friend, and Trowa, albeit looking calm, had his eyes narrowed in what Quatre identified as worry.

"We'll land our suits southeast of the Brussels Residential Palace ," Duo said immediately the moment their eyes had come to an understanding. All of them nodded, silently agreeing that they had no wish to publicly announce their status as Gundam pilots by landing in the middle of the dying melee, and the still heavily guarded courtyard. They had tasted life without war, brief though as it was, and although complete anonymity was impossible, each of them still tried to grab what anonymity they could have.

None of them mentioned that Wing Zero had crashed within that area as well.

Trowa looked around, surveying what was left of the battlefield, before saying, "This battle is over and done with. Noin and Zechs can handle any little resistance that may come about." Looking to the other side of his screens, he pushed a few controls and several views appeared. "05 is holding his own at their defense line number four point E," he reported, to which they nodded, grateful for the knowledge. No one mentioned his slip in using the numeric identifier; in fact, no one seemed to notice at all.

"Agreed. Southeast it is then. From there, we'll go on foot and rendezvous before the residential grounds," Quatre said, his voice hardened as he tried to keep the growing panic he could feel at bay. _I don't want to lose anyone else. I won't have to lose anyone else! _

He started to push several buttons in his cockpit, fingers flying over the controls in a blur, to ready his suit for take-off then consequent shutdown.

"Copy that," Duo said, before terminating his transmission and, soon after, Deathscythe boosted up to the air, using what little energy it had left, to head for their planned meeting.

"Quatre."

Quatre paused for a moment, hearing all the unspoken questions with just the mention of his name. "I'm all right, Trowa," he answered after a while, gritting his teeth when he unconsciously tried to reach out again to his connection with the Wing pilot, only to find nothing. "It's Heero I'm worried about."

Trowa seemed to accept this and before long, his transmission too, ended. Both Sandrock and Heavyarms took off.

Quatre's screen flickered in his left and he looked to see Noin's image appear. "Quatre, where…?"

"We have to check on our own, Miss Noin. Could you handle the rest?" he said, and briefly he wondered, our own… _team? group? _What were they?

Polite as he was, he sounded as if he was giving an order with the way his voice was tensed and clipped, but he could see Noin silently accept his words with a nod.

"Understood. Go. We'll take care of things here," she hesitated before continuing in a softer tone, "I hope everything's all right." With that, she ended the communication.

Quatre's frown returned, and a hand unconsciously rubbed at his chest. "I hope so too," he whispered.

He landed, as planned, on the southeast of the presidential residence, turned stronghold, which was still a good distance away. By then, sounds of sirens filled the air, and Quatre knew that by the time they get there, there would be a good number of ambulances and police officers, as well as Preventer agents, ready to put out the already dying fire of battle.

Their fight was over, he thought as his screens, one by one, flickered off. For a moment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of finality as each lighted screen soon turned black, leaving him in the dim interior of the machine that had held so much significance and meaning to his life and to the turn of man's history. The time for the people's struggle and willingness in maintaining peace had finally come. The dangerous race of battle, wherein they always found themselves a step behind, was on its last lap. Hopefully, this night would open up to a new era where the history of constant wars and oppression would not be repeated and would remain in the past. _I just hope… _He frowned determinedly as he freed himself from his pilot seat, just as the hatch of his Gundam opened.

_I just hope all five of us are here to see the result of what we had fought so hard for. _

He had locked Sandrock's system and now, he locked its cockpit, and satisfied upon hearing the soft swoosh and the steady beep of the closing hatch, he turned to ride the lift down, hooking a foot to the hold. He could see Trowa landing his suit not far from him on his right and Duo's already there on his left.

_The war is over. I don't have to lose anyone else in these meaningless conflicts, most of all, not Heero. We don't have to lose anyone else. _

He turned his eyes to the direction where the battle took place, seeing smoke rise up from the destruction of several infrastructures and mobile suits, and he wondered, why did this have to happen again? He raised his free hand to his chest, once more trying to feel, to touch that familiar presence he just realized was Heero, and once again, failing to do such. Concern gnawed at him, fear even more so.

_"No. Kindness is not necessary when fighting, but it is needed at other times." _

He would not forget the way those sharp blue eyes pierced him that day by the shore, nor would he forget Heero's words.

_"Right now is not the time to fight, Quatre." _

"I'm overreacting," he mumbled, trying to appease himself. But he couldn't deny the _wrongness _it felt – the _emptiness _that was in him with the absence of that single bond to another person. _Heero is alive, he has to be… _

He jumped the last meters from his Gundam, Fear with the thought of death pounded in his chest as if his heart would burst from it at any moment. Crouching down low to avoid the brunt of the high jump, he immediately looked around for any signs of danger. Sensing none, he took off, running towards the general direction of the palace.

_Still nothing. _

Maybe he was giving it too much thought, too much worry. Maybe Heero was all right, despite the fact that Wing Zero practically exploded high in the air and crashed down back to Earth, like a fallen bird caught by a hunter's shot. Quatre inwardly cursed, berating himself for such comparison that didn't help ease his worry at all. Maybe Heero was _indeed _all right, but he had to see for himself. The pain he felt when he was in Sandrock a while ago was not something he could just ignore, and the dread and fear that crept up in his body wasn't supposed to be taken lightly. And the emptiness…

It wasn't everyday that a part of him just seemingly – all of a sudden – _dies _… "No," he whispered to himself, determined. It just wasn't there, it just _vanished. _All of a sudden, nothing, just _nothing. _

"Quatre!"

He stopped abruptly and looked back, his eyes meeting Duo's, and he could see the same concern and worry reflected in those violet depths. But he knew Duo couldn't feel what he felt, couldn't feel a connection that had always been there suddenly cut off, so he tried to mask his inner turmoil, not wanting the others to worry even more. They paused for a moment, as if conversing with their thoughts and eyes alone.

Maybe both were too strung with other concerns to notice the danger long before it was too near to avoid. But both noticed it at the same time, as their head snapped to two different directions seconds before the cocking of guns were heard.

"Don't move!"

_Four of them, _Quatre thought, _Two of us. _

The odds would be in their favor if a fight were to occur, Quatre observed, even as only three men revealed themselves from the cover of the trees from where Duo had turned. He nearly raised a brow, not turning his head to the three soldiers as he continued to stare into one direction, knowing for certain that someone was there. _Surely he doesn't think that the element of surprise is still in his hands? _

He heard Duo curse and realized that the other pilot was in no mood to play games with soldiers who didn't know what they were doing. He could see and sense that the braided pilot also knew that their fight was done, knew that their mission as soldiers had already ended the moment the citizens started to speak for themselves. What was left for them to do was gather what was left of the pieces of their lives to continue on, and both of them realize that to do that, they needed each other – they needed to check on their own, as he had said to Noin, and Heero was still unaccounted for. That alone was enough to nurse their anger for any obstacles that hindered them from getting to their goal.

"Raise your hands where I could see them! Gundam pilots?"

Quatre's head snapped up to the one who spoke, his eyes lit with fury. "Do you not see the futility of what you're doing?" he asked, voice calm and low – a clear threat. These were soldiers of Mariemeia – their uniform told as much. These soldiers had been misled. Were they not aware that the battle was over? That they had lost? His eyes took in each of the three's position, knowing Duo did the same. Two stood near Duo's side, one near him, two guns and one rifle, which was just as well since it would be easier to best a long-range type of weapon in close combat, or at least for them.

"Man, you _ought _to have a good reason for standing in our way to getting to one of our own," Duo's voice sounded annoyed, but it was laced with hidden anger, his impatience brought about by the worry of the possibility of losing a comrade.

_One of our own… _

Quatre was surprised at the same use of words, and he had to smile briefly, noting how each of them had, in their own way, considered their little group as one whole unit, even without saying anything and even with how each of them acted individually. They were still the only five with the distinction of being called Gundam pilots. They had seen and gone through much, fought a tad too many battles. Who else would be able to relate to each of themselves but the other pilots as well?

"Dekim Barton did not weigh and consider those strong enough to oppose him. But I will not make the same mistake as he did. There was no direct order for your execution, but you, Gundam pilots," the man said, and glanced up at the three towering figures of the Gundams – a glance that proved to be his mistake.

Quatre anticipated Duo's moves easily and was able to act with him as the American swung his leg to the arm of the one in-charge in a way that made the soon dislodged gun fly towards the other man, startling him enough to give them the needed second to deal with a one-on-one.

Quatre moved in time with his teammate and went for the closest one to his left, rightfully ducking as he knew the possibility of the gun being shot was high, which indeed happened not a second too soon. Taking the man's arm from below, he twisted the wrist, caught the falling gun, and delivered a swift blow just behind the ear, rendering the other unconscious. He immediately turned, to the bushes and trees, knowing that Duo could handle the other one, and pointed the semi-automatic to the shadows, in the direction of their hidden enemy.

A shout behind alerted him that Duo was done with his part.

"I know you're there. Show yourself!" he said, there was a moment of silence, before any movement was seen. There was a rustling of leaves before a shadow finally appeared. Not a moment later, Trowa emerged, holding a gun. Not his own, Quatre knew, and he immediately withdrew his aiming hand to point his own held gun upwards as a precaution.

"Caught him snooping," Trowa merely said.

Duo walked towards them, and they stood silent for a while, looking at each other as the air of action was all too soon replaced with the tension of anxiety. They seemed to reach an understanding in their silence, and Quatre nodded once, receiving two in return.

He turned then and started to the direction of the palace, with the pilots of Deathscythe and Heavyarms on his heels. He tucked his acquired gun in the back of his pants. They were now more aware of the several sentries that littered the grounds, and they didn't take time to know if these soldiers already knew that the battle was over. They avoided them and stayed unnoticed.

They needed to find Heero.

Quatre managed not to trip completely on his feet on the uneven ground when his fear suddenly increased tenfold with the memory of seeing Wing Zero explode in the air suddenly replaying in his mind, and the coldness of the empty hole inside him seemed to all of a sudden resonate in its hollowness. The possibility of… _death _was too close.

He stumbled slightly on the littered rocks and scattered undergrowth. Duo immediately had a hand on his elbow to steady him. "Hey," the other pilot said softly.

"Don't think about it," Trowa said from his other side, green eyes ahead as they continued to run the remaining distance to the residence's grounds.

Quatre tried to nod. "I just…" he said, but then hesitated. "I can't _feel _him." He settled for that, and he could feel two pairs of questioning eyes boring into him, yet he didn't give it any notice.

With their silence now broken, Duo gave in to his urge to curse. "I am going to seriously kick his sorry ass when this is all over."

Quatre noticed the unspoken possibility of Heero not making it after all this trouble. Wing Zero wasn't in its best shape when it arrived, and although the possibility of Heero dying from such explosion and crash wasn't the most likely, all that Gundanium alloy and the safety provided inside the cockpit couldn't save him from any other possible malfunction. He pursed his lips into a tight line, not to mention his severed link with the blonde pilot. _He can't be… It's not possible. It's not. _

He raised a hand to his chest to rub at it absently. _I still can't… No, _and he willed himself to stop thinking about it. Finally, they reached a break in the tree line and saw the converging mass of people. Preventers had already apprehended the mobile suits, police scattered around, and the medics already started doing their jobs. The residence itself was already unlocked from the heavily guarded shields and was now above the ground once more.

"Where the hell are we supposed…" Duo started to say when Quatre immediately took off in one direction. "What the…!"

But the two didn't question him, and just followed behind.

They were soon stopped by several police on the way. Three teenagers running around the chaos was bound to catch attention.

"Hey! I don't know what you are doing here, but you kids can't go any further. This is a dangerous place to be. Go home," one of them said.

Quatre glared, he looked back at Duo and Trowa and saw that their own glares was bordering on anger and impatience. He knew his face reflected the same. He had a moment to notice that Duo held back and looked at him, waiting for him to speak because the usually rash Deathscythe pilot probably didn't trust himself not to seriously maim the men before him. They were all wrought with worry to heed another and be polite, and Quatre briefly wondered if the man was blind or was just too ignorant to ignore a threat, or three threats for that matter, when presented to him.

"Please let us pass," soft, steady, and low. He tried to hold on to what patience was left in him and not let his worry override his senses. These were not military men. They were mere police, local cops, and they obviously had no idea of what was really happening.

Another officer walked up to the one in front of them. Eyeing the three, he asked, "What's the matter?"

Before the other man answered, Duo exclaimed, "Let us pass!"

And yet another man walked up to them, blocking their path. Annoyance was clearly painted on his face, and he glared at Duo. "What, kid? Are you blind! We're already up to our necks with this trouble here, and if you think we're just going to let another bundle of trouble into this mess, well, think again," he frowned, when no one even showed any reaction. "What? Run along now, go home to your parents, and don't…"

"That's enough," Trowa spoke softly – _commandingly _– and the man was genuinely surprised, not expecting to be interrupted in such a manner. Quatre knew Trowa not only interrupted him, but also prevented Duo from making his own interruption, which certainly wouldn't be as calm. The words had made their three frowns go even deeper. Panic and stress with what was happening couldn't excuse him for such untoward behavior. It was one thing to be concerned about the welfare of three seemingly innocent bystanders; it was another to be told that they were nothing but nosy teenagers that were just another annoyance to add to their list.

"We are not civilians," Trowa continued, his voice held a clear warning. They were pressed for time, and having been used to the constant haste of war and battle for almost all their lives, they did not like the way they were being held especially when their goal was to see to the wellbeing of a teammate.

Quatre started to move then, as if that was enough explanation, but the officer grabbed him roughly, not liking the way he was spoken to, in an attempt to hold him back…

…only to be faced with the barrel of a gun, with his wrist in a grip too strong to belong to any 16 year old, away from the blonde's shoulders, where – _he was sure _– he had placed his hand. One quick glance to the side told him he was also faced with yet another two ready-to-fire firearms.

Quatre retained enough sense to know that if they weren't filled with so much fear and worry for Heero, Duo would have whistled at his show of defiance and strength. Unknown to him, Duo nearly did, even as he stared down his own gun, as the Deathscythe pilot never thought that he'd actually see the usually gentle one of them pissed enough to show such.

The blonde pilot couldn't care less at the moment.

The men were stunned silent, none of them even having enough reaction time to reach for any of their weapons.

These officers had their orders. At other times, Quatre wouldn't have minded. They were, after all, just teenagers in the eyes of people who didn't know them. But it wasn't one of those times.

They needed to find Heero, and they needed to find him fast.

"We are not civilians," Quatre said, repeating Trowa in a low but soft voice, and the glare he directed at the man was enough to make him step back, but his wrist was still held, and the gun was still not far enough from his face.

"Let them pass."

They all turned to the voice. Since he was holding someone at gunpoint and he wasn't stupid enough to show any distraction, Quatre only gave a mere glance before turning back to the man whose wrist was still in his grasp. Sally was standing not far from them. The woman had a couple of Preventers at her disposal.

"But Ma'am…"

"I said, let them pass. You are out of your jurisdiction here officer, as you could probably already tell. Those _kids _," she said, not unkindly but with authority as she nodded to the three. She paused for a moment, and Quatre could feel her regret over her hesitation at saying, "…are not civilians."

At that, he let go, instantly raising his hands in a surrendering gesture to point the gun upwards and to put the manual safety _safely _back in place. He noted with satisfaction that the man in front of him who was now rubbing his wrist knew enough to know that his gesture of surrender was more to keep him safe from the gun than actual giving in. His other two companions did the same.

Without another glance, they ran off again, nodding to the ex-Federation doctor in gratitude. But Quatre paused, and looked back.

"Miss Sally, we left four people unconscious in the area where we… parked," Quatre said, nodding imperceptibly towards the three Gundams partially hidden in the mountainside not far in the distance. "There are at least six more groups, four members each, scouting that area." Sally nodded, but Quatre continued before she could say something. "And can you please see to it that," and Quatre nodded to the man who had acted and spoken against them. "That man is reprimanded for his behavior that was clearly unfit for his badge?"

Sally turned to the said man, who was still surprised to look anything but. Yet he soon looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but under the scrutiny of a Preventer officer as Sally's eyes bore into him. "Will do, Qua… 04," she said, changing her mind the last minute to hide Quatre's name, which was soon becoming well known and uttering the number so softly that only he could hear. She smiled down at the young pilot, easily accepting his silent leadership, unconscious and brief as it was.

Quatre just nodded, relieved that Sally, like Noin, trusted him without question. He briefly wondered if, with his own Preventer ID, he outranked them. He didn't actually check, since he immediately hid it away in his wallet when it was offered to him. He soon listed that as impossible; Lady Une wouldn't give each of them – except Wufei who had disappeared – a higher rank than those on active duty, would she?

He pushed the thoughts away from his mind, albeit he was glad he was distracted for a short while from his unwanted thoughts of the probability of facing another loss…

_No. Not again… _And he thought about his father, thinking his heart might not be able to take another such loss. _Not again. _

Making his way around scurrying agents, Quatre rounded an ambulance and stopped dead in his mad dash, feeling his strength suddenly wane. He briefly noticed his two friends coming up behind him. _No, this can't be happening. _He unconsciously took a step back, nerveless fingers dropping the gun that he didn't know he was still holding.

There, not far from him, were Relena and Lady Une, and supported between them was Heero's body, limp and unmoving. His eyes blurred and his knees became weak. _Not again, not again… _The mantra repeated itself in his mind as the sight of Heero's motionless body haunted his thoughts. _He can't be… _

_"No," _he whispered, as his chest tightened, and he found himself having difficulty to breathe. "Tell me he's not…"

_The connection's not there. The bond has been cut off… _

His strength suddenly drained from him, and he felt himself falling as his knees were no longer able to support his weight. He barely noticed Trowa instantly moving behind him to hold him up. All three of them were frozen there, eyes looking at Heero's _lifeless _body. Each of them fraught with the sheer fear of the too close reality that Heero was…

_Heero… He's… _

Not a moment too soon, just enough before any of them lost it, Lady Une looked up and noticed them…

…and she smiled.

Softly and tiredly, she _smiled. _The brief nod as silent affirmation that the limp body they held was going to be okay seemed not to matter. She smiled and it told them that everything was all right. Heero was _alive _.

The blonde pilot nearly choked on the rush of air that he had suddenly inhaled, as the weight in his chest was lifted unexpectedly. He grew weak as the fear and worry suddenly left him to be replaced with utter relief. Sighing heavily, he nearly sagged down again, but Trowa tightened his grip to prevent him from falling, and he allowed himself to be assisted, leaning slightly, still too shaken up to try to stand on his own.

Duo was less graceful in his show of relief as he suddenly collapsed against the ambulance beside them, his weariness catching up to him, and plopped down on the ground. He seemed to not mind that he was leaning on the tire of the vehicle. He let out a nervous laugh, no doubt still going over the shock and alarm of having thought they had lost one of their own, of having to accept the fact that they had to face a loss in their already small group now after they had been through much more than an attempted coup.

Trowa, being able to handle and assist only one, just managed to look at him.

"Damn him and his suicidal stunts!" was what the Deathscythe pilot only said, and it was the only thing that they said on the matter.

Trowa smiled slightly at the braided pilot, who was the only one vocal enough to voice all their sentiments. But Quatre didn't give much notice, his eyes just followed the three in front of him as Lady Une and Relena were relieved of Heero by an awaiting medic to be brought to the nearest ambulance.

_Unconscious… of course. _

He sighed in relief, before raising a hand to his chest. "He is just unconscious," he assured himself. He tried to straighten up then, and Trowa backed away, letting him stand on his own again, but hovering nearby in case he wasn't successful. He rubbed his chest in a soothing motion, comforting himself with the familiar action. _Still there but he's just unconscious. _

Finally, letting all the fear and worry drain away, he smiled. "Thank Allah."

He looked back at his two companions, noticing that each of them had their own smiles on their faces, or as much as what a smile was for Trowa. None of them spoke for a while, as they took their time to let the adrenaline subside and to let their breathing become normal again. Quatre knew that he wasn't the only one shaken up by the thought that one of them had died.

But every one of them was safe now. _All five. _

"Remind me, Quat," Duo started after the silence had stretched on long enough, and Quatre looked down at him to see him reach out to the fallen gun on the ground and soon twirled it around his finger. There was a smirk playing on his lips. "To never _ever _piss you off."

Quatre blinked, surprised. The braided American chuckled, resting his elbows on his raised knees. "After what I just witnessed, I think I will be a fool to fall for your cherubic features."

"What…?" Quatre all but stammered.

With a hint of a smile, Trowa said, "And he has the grace to blush," which wasn't true, but it got the intended reaction anyway as Quatre looked away sheepish, feeling the need to _indeed _blush, but composed enough to not give his friends that satisfaction. _Friends. _

Duo buried his head in his hands and laughed, wholeheartedly laughed, and not soon after, the deep echo of Trowa's soft laughter was also heard.

Surprised, Quatre turned back to his two friends. _Friends, _he thought again, then smiled.

"It is over," he whispered, as if marveled by the fact, which he was. It was enough to make their laughter subside.

Duo lifted his head from his hands and looked up, startled at the observation.

"It is over," Quatre said again. He didn't dare hope much, but he knew that now, it would – it _might _– be different. The heart of the people had finally understood what it was to fight and hope for peace, and that was as good a start as any.

Trowa looked away, raising his gaze to the stars that adorned the dark velvet sky.

Duo looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling the need to drop the gun. He did. "Ne, Quatre, I guess you're right," he said quietly.

"Aa," Trowa softly agreed.

"It's over," Duo repeated again.

Quatre nodded, even though no one was exactly looking at him to notice. He turned his back to them to look back to the ambulance where Heero was taken. His features softened, and he smiled again, a hand instinctively rising to rest on his heart. He leaned at the ambulance's side, leaning his head as well, and the sight of the unruly brown hair peeking out of the other ambulance he was watching made him close his eyes in relief and gratitude. _It's there; _he's _there, _he assured himself silently. _H__e's just unconscious. _

"Aa, indeed it is."

They just stayed there – Duo, sitting on the ground, Trowa standing with his eyes to the sky and arms crossed, and Quatre, leaning on the side of the ambulance, looking content and peaceful. They had nothing more to do for the moment. They were done fighting; their battle, their race, was over. They didn't need to run and hide, nonstop. They had no next mission to await. No, none of them was quite willing to move yet, even as all around them, everyone was moving with a purpose, hurrying and scurrying around.

Firearms were confiscated. Mariemeia's soldiers were being contained. Preventer agents were shouting out orders, and their subordinates ran around to carry them. Not far from them, the Tallgeese took flight again, probably to go back to the defense lines, while Noin's white Taurus landed at the edge of the field.

They remained there, silent and unmoving, just as behind them, their three suits stood majestic and proud, silent sentinels of the otherwise chaotic night. Everyone around them was passing in a blur, but for the three of them, the world stood still for the first time in years.

**  
11.04.05**


End file.
